


One More Drink?

by Basmathgirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, F/M, Mild Swearing, Oblivious, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Romantic if you squint, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29522928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: After shopping on a planet, the Doctor eats some fruit and becomes drunk.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor/Donna Noble
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. One More Drink, Doctor?

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written back in 2010 for a prompt given by [louiecat68](https://louiecat68.livejournal.com/) .

Why? Why did this sort of thing always happen to her? Wasn’t it bad enough that the only man that had been interested in her in the last few years wanted to feed her to a flipping enormous spider? They’d tried having a nice shopping trip, and now the Doctor was slowly sliding down a brick wall with the silliest expression on his face ever.

Not only that, his hearing seemed to have been turned down as well. Donna knelt next to him and considered his current state. “Are you alright, Doctor? Can you stand?” She tested any possible answer by pulling on his arm.

The Doctor giggled, and grinned at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “I’m alright, Donna. I’m always alright. You know that. But I do feel weird, I can’t..,” he began to explain, rolling his tongue around his mouth, “I don’t think I can feel parts of my mouth. Why’s that, Donna?”

“How the hell should I know that,” she grumbled at him. “What did you have to drink?”

“I haven’t had anything more than water, and I made sure I ate something like you told me to,” he slurred. At her questioning look, he continued, “Honest. I had some of those delicious apple-y banana things they had on a special dish. They said I could have as many as I liked.”

Donna leant forward and smelt his breath; there was a hint of banana, apple and definitely alcohol. “They spiked your food,” she informed him. “Either that or they grow alcohol in easily portable food parcels.”

He hiccupped, “That sounds fammy… famma… familiar now that you say that.” He looked forlornly at Donna. “Help me, Donna. You have so much more experience of feeling like this than me.”

“And if you carry on insulting me in that backhanded manner I’ll leave you to experience it all on your own,” Donna threatened him. Although she couldn’t imagine herself being so cruel as to leave him there on the ground. It was dark, freezing cold and eerily empty in this part of the planet.

He held out a hand and tried to caress her face, but the hand slid off, making him giggle again. “I’d never insult you, Donna. Do you know why?”

“Oh, please tell me,” Donna sarcastically begged as she started to help him up on to his feet by grabbing his arm and hoisting him up.

“Because you are brilliant.” He unsteadily flung out his free arm, and almost twirled into the brick wall.

“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” Donna took his arm and propped it around her neck. 

She then almost stumbled when he leant most of his weight onto her, and waved his free hand in her face.

“But there’s more, Donna.” He stopped short, making her almost fall again; and she had to use all her strength to get him to move in a forward motion. “You’re… you’re…you’re…”

“I think you’ve scratched your record, Sunshine. Care to try a different word in that sentence?” She couldn’t wait to hear the next bit. Well, she could if he talked the same amount of codswallop most drunks spoke.

His free hand waved a bit too near to her breast for comfort. “…Lovely. Did you know that?” he continued to tell her as he pushed his face into her neck, and licked her, of all things.

What was it with him and licking stuff? “Oi! I’m not a lollipop. So stop licking me,” she ordered him.

“Ooh. A Donna flavoured lollipop. How great would that be?” he wondered and grinned at her.

“One way to make everyone sick, I suppose,” Donna answered, trying to swing his head away from her neck. It was beginning to creep her out.

He licked her neck again! “Nope, wouldn’t make them sick by tasting you,” he declared. “Make them sick because you’re mine.”

Donna almost involuntarily vomited. “I’m yours, am I? How exactly did I become yours?”

He placed a small kiss where he’d just licked her neck. “I claim this Donna… in the name of…” And kissed her neck a second time. 

They almost lost their balance completely when he consequently staggered and had a fit of the giggles.

“Could be worse,” Donna commented as she eyed him, when she regained control of their trajectory. “And you’re not doing the Ministry of Silly Walks.”

“Are you saying my walk is silly?” he mumbled from his new favourite place against her neck.

“No, it’s not that part of you I find silly.” She made one last concerted effort to get him to walk properly as she saw the TARDIS ahead. “Almost home.”

He lifted his head as if he’d just seen a squirrel. “Ah. There’s the TARDIS,” he decided to tell the whole world. 

Donna felt that this world deserved to be woken up by his loudness as punishment for getting him drunk and, therefore, becoming her responsibility to get home safely.

“Thank God,” Donna muttered to herself, as she got him to balance against the TARDIS door while she fumbled for her key. 

The Doctor grinned inanely at her as he pitched forward, and she manoeuvred him onto the ramp with a swinging motion.

Unfortunately, the Doctor immediately assumed it was a dancing situation and waltzed her into the TARDIS. Donna was caught between being amused and bloody annoyed, but she decided to let her amusement take precedence. 

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed into her ear, giving her a semi-blast of alcoholic fumes.

“Well, I’ve never stopped you dancing with anyone, you prawn,” she told him.

“No. No you don’t… you don’t understand.” He halted their dancing progress around the console, and looked directly into her eyes. “I wanted to dance with you, but... but I… I couldn’t.”

“Okay, I’ll probably regret asking this, but why couldn’t you?” She searched his face for any possible clues. 

She was surprised when he giggled yet again.

“I’m not…” He took a deep breath. “I’m not allowed to tell you.”

“Oh, for the love of Pete. Why not?” she demanded. “This is getting to be worse than finding out the Riddle of the Sphinx.”

“Ah, now, That one I do know,” he boasted, and touched the side of his nose in an old-fashioned knowing gesture. “And you know what else I know?”

“Go on then,” Donna encouraged him half-heartedly, expecting some piece of nonsense to fall out of his mouth.

“You want me to…” And he lunged at her, grabbing hold of the sides of her head and kissing her. 

Donna tried to fight him off, but he was surprisingly strong and determined. He obviously saw it as a battle between them both that he had to win. He invaded her mouth and took control.

When he finally let go of her, she pulled back to punch his lights out; but he beat her to it and dropped like a stone to the floor. She resisted the urge to kick him instead, and prodded him with her foot. 

There was no sign of intelligent life.

“Isn’t that wizard,” she angrily considered his prone form. “And I’d thought getting you as far as here would be enough.”

She tried to lift the Doctor, but he was a dead weight, so she decided to try a different method; she rolled him over and slapped him hard across the face. He stirred, much to Donna’s relief. Her hand flipping hurt. She was well out of practise doing that sort of thing.

He looked at her extremely groggily. “What?”

“Come on, Spaceman, upsy daisy. Let’s get you to bed.” And she hoisted him up, with his help, for the third time that evening.

“Are you coming with me?” he meekly asked.

“I’m coming as far as the bed, if that’s what you mean.” She manoeuvred him down the corridor towards his bedroom, thankful that he was easier to steer this time.

“You’re welcome to get into bed with me,” he offered and tried out his cheekiest drunken grin.

“Thanks, I think.” Donna pushed him downwards onto his bed. He pathetically sat there, looking lost. “Do you need help undressing?”

He fumbled with his buttons before saying, “I can undress myself… or… or… would you like to undress me?”

“No, not really, but I will if I have to,” she told him matter of factly. She pulled off his jacket and then yanked off his shoes. “Anything else you want removed you’ll have to do yourself. I’m not risking it, considering you’ve been so frisky.”

His hands tried to grab her waist and caught her wrist instead. “What about my goodnight kiss?” he tried to purr at her, and fell backwards onto the bed taking Donna with him. “Ooh. You’re keen.”

“And you’re an idiot!” She swatted his arm. “Now let me go.”

“But Donna. I need to tell you…,” he began.

“What? What do you need to tell me?” She looked down at him and was amazed to see he’d fallen asleep already. She extricated herself from his grip and covered him over with a blanket. “Perhaps you’ll tell me whatever it was in the morning,” she pondered, before turning out the light and leaving him.

Several hours later the Doctor slowly woke up, wondering where he was, how he got there, why he was still in his clothes, and why he had the taste of make up in his mouth. He crawled out of bed and made his way to his bathroom, steeling himself to look in the mirror and assess the damage. 

He expected the emphasised bed-hair and the five o’clock shadow; he didn’t expect the red hand print, or the lipstick smeared all over his lower face. As he peered blinkingly at his image he realised that he recognised that shade of lipstick from somewhere. The cogs in his memory ground rustily to provide flashes of what had happened the night before: eating fruit with the planet’s inhabitants, their joint glee, trying to find the TARDIS, colliding with a wall, Donna rescuing him, smelling Donna, tasting Donna’s neck, and finally,… oh dear.

Putting a soap and flannel to good use, he cleaned himself up enough to be presentable. He made his way out of his room and used the wall to guide him into the kitchen, thankful that the TARDIS had dimmed the lights enough for him for it to be this side of bearable. A steamy hot cup of coffee sat on the table waiting for him and a pile of toast sat in the toast rack. The thing he was worried about was the person sitting watching his progress into the kitchen. 

“Morning Donna,” he managed to say. He hoped he sounder brighter to her ears than he did to his own.

“Morning Doctor.” She turned in her seat to view him better. “How are you feeling today?” she asked, keeping her voice deliberately louder in volume, and enjoying seeing him wince in response. 

Serve the blighter right.

He mumbled something as a reply, and grabbed the coffee, whilst carefully not looking her in the eye.

“So, are you going to tell me?” Donna suddenly demanded.

“Tell you what?” he quietly replied, averting his gaze again by taking a piece of toast to munch.

“I don't know. You tell me. What ever it was, you said you _had_ to tell me.” Donna stared at him, willing him to look at her. “Just before you keeled over.”

He blushed at the memory that flashed into his mind. “About last night…,” he stammered, “I shouldn’t… I didn’t… if you want… why did I… I can’t begin to… thank you, Donna.”

Donna smiled at the Doctor, feeling extremely gratified that she’d rendered him almost speechless as he tried to apologise to her. It returned her faith in him, and made her feel safe again. The thought of living with a letch had made her shudder before he’d redeemed himself.

“Got a little something on your face there, Spaceman.” She grinned at him as she leant over and examined his face. “Looks like guilt to me.”

The Doctor blushed even deeper under her scrutiny. “Yeah, could be,” he agreed. “Considering what I…”

“Let’s not go there, okay,” Donna kindly offered, “Alcohol does weird things to people, and even Time Lords it would seem.” She got up and took her breakfast things to the sink. “What were you going to tell me? It’s been bugging me like crazy,” she turned to ask him.

“I’ve no idea,” he lied, and stuffed some toast into his mouth to prevent more words coming out.

Donna saw the action and decided to leave it be for the time being. She was certain she’d get it out of him eventually.

As for the Doctor, well, he was plotting his own alcohol-related adventure involving a certain Donna Noble, that could be described as an experiment, a data gathering situation with a controlled variant, or any other fancy label you liked. In short, he was going to try and get Donna drunk enough to find out a truth of his own.


	2. One More Drink, Donna?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor carries out his plan to get Donna drunk.

It had started as quite a normal day; well, normal for them. They had rescued a family on Glexoscex from a stromea serpent, when Donna had slapped it into submission closely followed by the Doctor using the sonic to persuade it to behave itself and be captured. There had been no need for it to almost vomit over Donna; thankfully, the Doctor had grabbed her out of the way in the nick of time. Whether or not that remark from the mother of the Glexoscexan family about eating it later had been a joke or not Donna decided not to worry about. After all, she was enjoying the walk back to the TARDIS in companionable silence with the Doctor in the late evening sunlight. It had been a tiring experience, with a lot of running about, and they trudged home hand-in-hand avoiding cracks, potholes and muddy puddles.

Donna broke the silence. “Do you know what I fancy right now?” The Doctor threw her a puzzled expression. “A drink. A tall glass of something cool with ice, an umbrella and a twiddly straw,” she told him.

“I think I might be able to rustle you up something like that, if you want me to?” he offered magnanimously.

“Ooh, I do.” Donna almost bounced up and down in her excitement at the prospect of such a drink again. She knew the Doctor couldn’t provide a hunky barman to serve it to her, but she could still wish, couldn’t she?

With renewed vigour, he led her away in a slightly different direction. They ended up in a small township, with a few meagre shops and several bars. The Doctor chose what looked like the largest hostelry, and escorted Donna in. The place was buzzing with life inside, but they managed to find seats near the bar. To add to Donna’s enjoyment there was waiter service, and not a bad looking waiter service at that. It gave her plenty to ogle while they waited for the promised drink.

She gave the Doctor’s hand a grateful squeeze. “This is wonderful,” she told him as she sipped the largest glass of booze she had ever had topped off with a fancy accessory. “How did you know this was here?”

He grinned back at her, taking hold of her hand again properly. “I didn’t. It just seemed logical that a place like this would be here.”

“I could get to love your logic,” she told him, gladdened to see him blush at her words. She noticed some movement over in the far corner of the bar. “Are they setting up a band over there?” she asked him.

“Why yes, it looks like they are. This should be entertaining,” he replied.

It turned out to be very entertaining indeed. The locals obviously loved the music played, dancing and singing along. All the music was unfamiliar to Donna, but she could follow it easily, and it grew on her considerably. When a bloke from the bar grabbed hold of her arm and urged her to get up and dance with him, she gave in quickly, letting him spin them around. She also made a point to ignore the Doctor’s scowl as she whirled by, and promised herself that she’d grab him up at the first opportunity.

When her dancing partner finally let her go, she made a beeline for the Doctor, and tried to pull him up. He resisted her efforts at first, but the atmosphere in the bar was very persuasive, and he got up to dance with her. She was surprised that he was as good a dancer as his previous drunken state had suggested; and that he used the excuse of the bar being packed to draw her closer to him. As if she couldn’t see that ruse a mile off! Still, it was nice to be the centre of his attention for a while, and she let him confidently guide her through several dances.

The music slowed down, and Donna steeled herself for the Doctor to stop dancing with her, and return them to their seats. But he pulled her body closer to him, swaying them in time to the rhythm. Okay, the dance floor area was packed but she hadn’t expected him to hold her so enticingly close to him that it almost took her breath away. In fact, it was seductive, the way he moved his hands on her lower back and pressed himself against her, bringing his face and lips so near to her own that all she had to do to kiss him would be to move a few millimetres. And she was beginning to want to, very much. She began to thread her arms up to wrap them around his neck when a tall, black-haired man parted them abruptly.

“Doctor! Fancy meeting you here,” exclaimed the stranger; and quite a good looking stranger at that, Donna noted.

Several emotions crossed the Doctor’s face, including anger and guilt, but ‘miffed’ would have been the word Donna chose. He recovered himself quickly, and returned the hug the stranger had insisted on bestowing him with. “Jack! What are you doing here?” he greeted Jack with all the enthusiasm he could muster.

Jack turned to consider Donna, and a wide grin lit up his face again. “Captain Jack Harkness at your service, ma’am,” he schmoozed, taking one of her hands and pressing his lips to the back of it.

If Donna had said Jack had no affect on her she would have been lying. She found herself instantly interested in him, even though she knew this routine backwards. The Doctor gave her a very dark look, and she knew that she shouldn’t have, but she gave him her best cheeky ‘why not?’ look back.

“Ah! Jack, this is Donna, Donna Noble. Donna, this is Jack, Captain Jack Harkness,” the Doctor made the necessary introductions.

“The infamous Jack at last,” Donna giggled. “I’ve been suitably warned about you.”

“I hope you’ve heard lots about me, all of it bad.” Jack winked at her.

“Not all of it. Just most of it,” she confirmed, smiling at him.

“Anyway,” broke in the Doctor, “we were about to head back to the TARDIS.”

“Yes, I could see you had decided something like that.” Jack held his gaze. “But surely you can have one more drink with an old friend?”

Donna looked expectantly at the Doctor. “We’ve only just met up with Jack, Spaceman. Don’t be so rude.” She turned back to Jack to say, “I’ll have something long, cool and alcoholic, please.”

“I’m beginning to like you, Donna,” he laughed at her, and waved over a passing waiter.

A nearby female local made a grab for Jack a few minutes later, and he laughingly allowed himself to be whisked away onto the dance floor. Donna took the opportunity to quiz the Doctor. “Are you going to tell me what the problem is?” she asked taking his hand.

“Which problem?” he answered vaguely.

“The problem you obviously have with Jack,” she stated and fixed him to his seat with a glare. “Come on, out with it; and don’t pretend you have no idea what I’m on about.”

He sighed. “Jack often means trouble, that’s all,” he started to explain, but Donna didn’t look convinced. “And he… he has this effect on people… because he makes them fancy him.”

“How does he do that then?” Donna asked, finding herself intrigued by this.

“Pheromones. He gives off pheromones, they make people act as if they’ve been drugged,” he finished succinctly. He wanted to ask her exactly how they’d affected her, but he felt hesitant.

“Blimey! That explains it then,” she remarked and smiled at him. “I wondered what was happening for a minute or two there.”

“So you…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“Yeah, I did for a bit, despite knowing what he was trying to do.” She chuckled. “Just goes to show you can teach an old dog a new trick. And I am aware that I referred to myself as a dog there, so no funny comebacks, Spaceman.”

“As if I would. Nope, not saying anything me,” he laughed. Donna always managed to make him feel better, no matter what his mood was. Before his good mood could disappear, he found himself asking her, “Do you want to dance again?”

“Try stopping me,” she replied as he escorted her to the dance area. 

It obviously did the Doctor good to have a bit of competition it would seem. As she thought that, her mind rapidly worked out over whom they would have competed in the past, and she correctly guessed where some of the animosity came from.

The music was a little bit faster this time, and the Doctor seemed a bit more… ‘fumblier’ would be a good word, if it existed, but Donna wasn’t sure if it did. They hadn’t been on the dance floor long when a stomping great big local bloke trod heavily on her foot, making her yell out in pain. 

“Donna, what’s happened? Are you alright?” the Doctor asked her with concern. 

“No I’m not. I think I might have broken a bone in my foot.” She tried to hobble, but she held grimly onto the Doctor’s arm.

He half carried her to sit at their table, and lifted up her foot into his lap to examine it. She winced painful as he removed her shoe and gently massaged her foot.

“Let’s keep it elevated to reduce swelling,” he told her, continuing his administrations. Donna was finding it extremely soothing, and marvelled at his talented hands.

Jack appeared again at the table. “How are we doing, kiddies? Would you like another drink?” he steered the last question towards Donna.

“Anybody would think you’re trying to get me drunk,” Donna smirked.

“Oh no. You’ve discovered my secret,” he retorted and cheekily grinned. He noticed Donna’s foot in the Doctor’s lap. “Is there something going on here that I should know about?”

“Nope,” Donna got in before the Doctor could reply. “And I’ll have the same as before.”

In fact, Donna had a few more drinks the same as before as she sat there. Jack had taken up the odd invitation to dance or mingle with the locals, but the Doctor kept the same position, holding Donna’s foot in his grasp. It was a harmless vice, after all! All that Donna had done differently was giggle more as his hands caressed her foot, especially when he slowly crept up her calf towards her knee.

“You’d make a fortune, you know,” she told him conspiratorially. “Doing that.”

“Doing what?” he asked. “Oh, you mean the foot rub. Nah! I don’t have time for that.”

“Shame, cos I’d pay money… to… to erm… what was I saying? The foot thing…,” she slurred, as she wavered slightly towards him and gave him a clear view down the front of her blouse. He quickly tried to politely avert his gaze, without success, since Donna’s body seemed determined to give him the full show when she exclaimed, “Boy is it hot in here!” And undid a few buttons.

He reached out to do the buttons up and then thought better of it. “Donna, do you think you ought to… adjust yourself?” he queried.

“Why? What’s the matter, Timeboy? Can’t stand to see a bit of flesh?” She looked down at herself. “Or is the problem who… no, I shouldn’t ask that one.” She hiccupped on the last word.

“You can ask me any question you like. You know that you can,” he reassured her.

“Same here. I mean… the asking thing… to me,” she stammered and looked into her glass. “What the hell did they put in this thing? I can’t control my words.”

“Perhaps it was some sort of truth serum,” he joked.

“Oh, you want to know the truth, do you?” She tried to peer at him quizzically, but it came off as looking as though she’d got a bad smell under her nose. “Go on then, ask me anything.”

“Anything?” he squeaked. “Well, I’d love to know…”

“What do you think of me?” cut in Jack as he sat down next to her.

“Pfft! That one’s easy,” Donna chided. “I think you are far too handsome for your own good, Mr Captain man!” She laughed at her own joke. “Though you could learn something from him,” she accused the Doctor.

He glared at her. “Why, what could I learn from him?”

“How to take chances, go out on a limb once in a while; stuff like that,” she answered, leaning heavily towards him again before grabbing hold of the edge of the table.

“What do you mean? I take chances all the time,” he indignantly replied.

“Yeah, with your life maybe, but not your love-life,” she insisted, and turned to Jack. “What do you think?”

This time the Doctor cut across Jack’s reply with, “If I didn’t take chances why are you slowly getting drunk, eh? Answer me that one.”

Both Donna and Jack both looked at him gob-smacked, but it was Donna who responded, “Pardon me? Are you saying that you’ve deliberately got me sozzled?” She would have slapped him then and there but she was unsure of her aim in this state. But she still took the pose.

He suddenly went wide-eyed. “Did I say…? Oh, I meant that… of course I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I think you would,” Jack put in. When the Doctor glared at him, he replied, “I’m only saying that it’s possible, judging by what I saw… earlier.”

“And what was that?” Donna demanded, as best as she could.

“The Doctor dancing,” Jack answered simply.

The underlying meaning of that statement was completely lost on Donna; though to be fair, she was in no fit state to understand anything of a deeper meaning. The Doctor looked appalled.

Donna considered both of them. “I’m not getting caught up in some… some stupid fight thing where you two prove who’s got the biggest red bum, or whatever you aliens do. I’m going to go home now, and I’m beginning to not care how I get there or who with,” she told them shakily. “Doctor, if I could have my foot back, please?”

“Donna,” he began, “let me help you.”

“Only if that’s all you’re offering, Martian. I can’t be doing with all this blokey alpha-male rubbish right now.” This would have come across better if she hadn’t stumbled at that point and the Doctor niftily caught her before she hit the bar-room floor.

“Still throwing yourself at me, I see,” he quipped, steadying her as she attempted to put her shoe back on. He took pity on her as her efforts proved fruitless and took command.

“And you keeping dreaming the impossible,” she remarked, causing Jack to roar with laughter.

“Makes a change, doesn’t it Doctor?” Jack winked at him. “Nice to see you’re not irresistible for once,” Jack smirked.

“Is that the pot calling the kettle black?” Donna asked Jack, amusing the Doctor this time. “Getting a little above yourself, Sunshine.”

The Doctor knowingly grinned at Jack above Donna’s head. “Can’t put anything past her, Jack. She’ll wheedle out all your secrets.”

“How many of yours have she discovered, Doctor?” Jack asked, remaining impressed.

“Oh, will you two just stop it!” ordered Donna. “You’ll be having a pissing contest next.” She scowled at them both, before having a laughing fit. “I almost want to watch that but… but… I don’t think I care enough. I gonna go… back wherever home is… can somebody steer me in the right direction?”

She staggered towards the bar, obviously testing out her internal GPS.

“Come on, Donna, I’ll take you home,” the Doctor stated and grabbed her elbow to guide her. “Ready to say your goodbyes?”

“Yeah.” She twirled towards Jack and hugged him enthusiastically. “See ya Jake… Jack… whatever your name is,” she waffled as she wiped some dribble off his collar. “Look after yourself and… and… what was I saying? No, it’s gone. Laters!”

Jack let the Doctor help her to shift herself away from him. “Bye Donna. It was a pleasure.”

Donna snorted a laugh as a reply, waved vaguely in his direction, and clung to the Doctor for dear life.

“Bye Jack.” The Doctor grinned at him, seemingly afraid to let go of Donna in case she aimed for the floor again.

Jack watched them, with much amusement, manoeuvre themselves unskilfully out through the bar. He felt certain he’d see the pair of them in the future, and wondered what state they’d be in and whether they’d have specific news for him. He couldn’t wait.

The cold night air hit Donna with a vengeance. Her legs practically gave way, along with most of her motor and cognitive skills. The Doctor was in two minds whether to just lift her up and carry her home or continue with the present plan of assisted walking.

“He seemed nice,” Donna slurred. “Am I allowed to say that?”

“You can say anything you like,” the Doctor told her.

“I wasn’t asking permission, I was thingying,” she replied. “D’you think you could stop moving about so much? I can’t hold onto you.”

“I don’t think it’s me that’s doing all the swaying,” he chuckled. He took a firmer grasp of her, around the waist, and asked, “Do you want to carry on walking, or shall I take over totally?”

“What? You can walk for me now? Can you do that?” She looked at him in wonder. “I’d be like a puppet or something! Blimey, you ain’t ‘alf talented!”

He laughed again. “I meant that I could pick you up and carry you the rest of the way.”

“Ooh. Didn’t think of that. That’s clever too, but in a totally different way, and… and…” She stop talking, as if the words had gotten away from her. “Can I tell something?”

“Go ahead,” he encouraged her. As she staggered into him, he prepared himself to lift her up.

“I fink you’re lovely, d’you know that?” She nodded at him. “I don’t understand why you haven’t got a wife or someone, ‘cos you should ‘ave.”

“Do you think so?” He bent down and hoisted her into his arms. “What do I do about it then?”

“Go to a bar, pick a nice woman up; take ‘er back to your place. Y’know, all the usual. I could help you find someone if you like?” she offered. “It’s quite nice up ‘ere,” she looked around as she spoke, “might even stay for a bit.”

“Are you referring to Glexoscex, or my arms?” he asked her. Seeing her puzzled frown, he reminded her, “Glexoscex is the name of this planet.”

“Oh, yeah, forgot for a minute. Well, forgot for several hours, but we weren’t counting, were we?” She gave him her best cheesy smile. “It’s nice being carried by you. Why don’t you carry me more often?”

“Because you won’t let me. That’s probably the main reason,” he supplied.

“Good point.” She patted him on the head. “Carry on, Jeeves. Or should that be ‘home James’?” She laughed at her own joke heartily, and the Doctor joined her.

“I’m not your pet dog,” he exclaimed in mock anger, and readjusted his hold on her.

“No, but you are my pet alien, aren’t you?” She patted his head and stroked his sideburns. “All cute and furry, but strangely not green.”

“Ribbit,” he went, and Donna folded up in giggles, making it suddenly harder to carry her. “Careful, Donna. I almost dropped you then.”

“So stop making me laugh,” she ordered and giggled. “And I promise not to do…. whatsername too.”

“Yeah, that would be it,” he smirked. “Anything else I should stop doing while I’m about it?”

“You could stop taking so long to get to the TARDIS. Did we really walk this far?” she quizzed, snuggling against him, and holding him tighter around the neck.

“Yep, every step.” He allowed himself a slight nuzzle back. “It’s not too far now. Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Erm… I don’t like staples. They freak me out. They attack when you aren’t looking.” She whispered secretively to him, “I used to do up Mum’s presents with them when she pissed me off. I knew she’d return the gifts; she never likes anything I get her. Call it a little bit of revenge if you like.”

Donna’s breath against the skin below his ear was doing things to him, things that he intended to never admit in a million years. “I’m sure she appreciated the thought,” he told her.

She lifted her head to look him in the eye. “You have met my mother, haven’t you, Doctor?” As he nodded she replaced her head. “There you go then, case proved. Why are you talking about Mum?”

“I wasn’t. You brought her up,” the Doctor said.

“That’s not the only thing I’m about to bring up. Can you put me down for a tick?” He quickly followed her instructions as she heaved. He also held her hair out of the way with one hand, and rubbed her back with other. “Sorry about that,” Donna said hoarsely, “never could hold my drink inside my body very well.”

“Did you want to walk the end bit?” he asked, still holding onto her waist.

“I think I’d better, just in case I… you know…” She still looked a bit green around the gills. “But can you…?”

“I’ll make sure you’re fine, don’t worry,” he confirmed, and gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“You’re a star, did you know that? My friend of the friends,” she maintained as she stumbled into his grasp. “And I’m still a bit drunk. O-h dear. Got to make sure I don’t make the same mistake you did.”

“What mistake was that?” he couldn’t stop himself asking. “There are a few to choose from.”

“Hmm, out of all of them, I’d say the kissy drunk lunge was the winner,” she answered thoughtfully. “Kinda killed things for a while.” She swayed and then clung onto him for grim death.

“Killed things? What things?” he needed to know. He gently released her fingers from where they were digging into the flesh of his neck but kept her hands there.

“Us. Us as mates I mean.” Seeing his worried expression up close, she added, “Weirded me out, sorry and all that, but it did.” She caressed his cheek when his expression showed his self-disgust, “It didn’t last long, cos you made it better again. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Then she replaced the caress with a light press of her lips.

He saved himself from having to reply immediately by fumbling with the TARDIS key whilst keeping her upright. Ushering her in, he asked, “Would madam like coffee to be served before bedtime?”

“I don’t… I don’t think coffee will help… it’s too late. I’ll have some water instead, I think… might fend off a hangover.” She staggered through the console room assisted by the Doctor, and let him lead her towards her bedroom.

When they got there he said, “I tell you what, how about you get ready for bed and I’ll fetch you that water, eh? I’ll make it long tall and very cool.”

“Sounds like the man of my dreams,” she chuckled. “Go on then, you’ve persuaded me.”

He found her several minutes later sitting on the edge of her bed in her pyjamas and looking despondent. “What’s the matter, Donna? Feeling sick again?” He sat down next to her and took her hand.

“Only a tiny bit,” she admitted as she turned to look at him. “Jack just says those sort things, doesn’t he? Do you think I’m…? Oh, never mind. Who am I kidding?”

“Are you saying you want Jack to be interested in you?” he blurted out as he felt a part of his hearts die at the thought.

“Not exactly… I’m saying… oh, I wish someone was interested… interested in _me_ ,” she said forlornly. “But that doesn’t happen. They lust for a time, but they…” She burst into tears, unable to finish her sentence.

The Doctor instantly hugged her to him. “Don’t say that. Plenty of men are interested in you.”

“Name one,” she sobbed next to his chest. 

“I… erm… I…,” he stammered, as he wondered exactly how truthful you had to be with a depressed drunk. “I’m interested in the person you are, for making me feel better about myself, for being brilliant...” He got a watery smile for that bit. “...for caring, for being here with me, for being a true friend; in short, for being Donna.”

She beamed at him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. “Oops! I promised I wouldn’t do that,” she guiltily confessed.

“That’s okay. I forgive you,” he pretended to dismiss and smiled, hoping she wouldn’t notice his arms were still around her. “Revenge is sweet.”

She yawned, and turned to consider her bed. “I’d better turn in and get some beauty sleep. Hopefully, I won’t have to spend tomorrow grovelling for my… misde-… thingamajigs,” she managed to say, hiccup and yawn at the same time.

He pulled back the covers and helped her get into bed, taking care to tuck them in around her. “You’ve no need to grovel, by the way,” he told her. Thinking she was almost asleep, he turned to stand and walk away, but she sat up slightly. “What is it?”

“In answer to your question, the one you won’t ask me, the answer is ‘no’,” she informed him.

“No?” He looked shocked and more than a little crestfallen.

“I know you’ve been running around with young bits of impressionable fluff the last few years, but I’m made of sterner stuff,” she stated and tapped the side of her nose. “I know more and I’m not attracted too much by the shiny. I won’t leave you for Jack, all right? So don’t you fret.”

She patted his hand, as he smiled and replied, “Okay Donna, I won’t.”

“Good. Now bugger off and let me sleep,” she demanded before she laid back, and closed her eyes.

The Doctor thought it best to do exactly as he was told.


End file.
